


what do you think about soseki's translation of "i love you"?

by wingsaloof



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Alternate Universe - Library, Fluff, Love Letters, M/M, Romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-21
Updated: 2016-04-21
Packaged: 2018-06-03 05:56:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,615
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6599374
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/wingsaloof/pseuds/wingsaloof
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Kouki can't write love confessions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	what do you think about soseki's translation of "i love you"?

'I want to live a romance as pure as a child's smile. Soft as a cloud, warm as the sun in a peaceful summer afternoon. I've always longed for such feelings, and you're the one who finally brought it to me. If this is my fate, I want to accept it with all my heart. I want to become one with you, to share everything that I have with you. Right now, I want to put these thoughts in words...

'If I must say it,'

 

Kouki sighed heavily, putting down his pen. Writing love stories was embarrassing on its own, but confession scenes were especially strenuous. He could feel his face burning up as he wrote each word without stopping to double-check it, otherwise he wouldn't have the courage to go on. His job as a novelist was still something recent to him, putting his stories into a paper still felt like a hobby. In a moment of unprecedented audacity, he submitted one of his novels for a contest, but it didn't win. It caught the attention of an editor, though, who wanted to see more of his imagination coming to life. The young novelist still could remember the man's strong voice over the phone call, citing the strengths of his creation and praising "the purity of feelings, the beauty of the prose and the fleeting, gentle atmosphere" of the tale.

It had been more than over an hour since the last time he emerged from his pile of papers, just like a professional athlete catching his breath after swimming through a olympic pool. The sun was already setting on the other side of the library's window, the trees of its garden obstructing the light. How many hours had he spent today here again? It was his favorite place for writing, the white walls created a sense of protection, the smell of coffee coming from the librarian's room would wake him up, the eternal silence of the reading area was really helpful for concentrating. Besides, during that time of the day, not many people besides the librarian would be here, except for maybe some students skipping school for studying, as weird as that could sound. With the sunset came more people, and it would be like that until the earlier hours of the night, so he left the place around that hour.

Maybe he should borrow a few romance novels for research, maybe getting used to flamboyant love confessions would make writing one a bit easier.

"Furihata-san, don't you need to leave soon?" A quiet voice called from behind him. "It's almost time for the high school kids to arrive."

They weren't close enough to call him a friend, but the librarian was a good acquaintance of Kouki. They were close in age and literary taste, so it was enough to carry a decent casual conversation.

"I'm already finishing up here. Say, Kuroko-san, do you have any good romance novels around?"

"Real good or popular good?"

"You know my stories are not the popular type." He laughed, a bit embarrassed.

"I like them, though. If you don't mind, I'd like to read the manuscript of your new story this time too." His blue eyes reflected the faint sunlight, gentle as his smile.

Besides his editor, the only person who had read Kouki's works was Kuroko. He would occasionally comment on it, suggest a couple alterations, always changing it for the better. Kouki had already suggested him to write something too, maybe his editor could read it, but the librarian always declined, saying that he was more suited to the reader's position. The rookie writer thought it was a shame that such promising talent would go to waste.

"Anyway, I think that I have something that fit exactly your taste. Do you mind if it's not a linear story?"

"Not really."

"So I'll go get it inside."

Left alone, Kouki finished packing up his stuff, cramming notebooks and pens inside his backpack. The loud voice of teenagers could already be heard from the hall outside, and although they would tone it down a bit after coming in, they wouldn't shut up at all, which honestly was a bit annoying. A couple minutes later, Kuroko tapped his shoulder with a paperback volume on his left hand.

"I think this one is a quite good match to your writing style, Furihata-san. It's a collection of short stories, all of them revolving around the theme of first love. They're simple and of easy reading, so you'll quickly get through them."

"You're always a great helping hand when it comes to books, Kuroko-san. Thank you."

"If it'll get you to write faster, I'll be more than glad to help. I want to see the development of your characters as soon as possible." Kuroko was always like this. Even if Kouki didn't mention it, the librarian could tell if the writer was going through some kind of difficulty during composition, and would do his best to aid him. "I'm looking forward to the result!"

"I am, too." He laughed. "See you tomorrow!"

"See you, Furihata-san."

 

Kouki's days were exactly the same, following always a pattern, the exact definition of "routine".

As a bachelor in his early twenties, just out of college, his mornings were made of getting up at seven a.m., having breakfast and then job hunting until almost ten o'clock, when his shift in a cafeteria nearby his six-tatami apartment started. At three in the afternoon, he would head straight ahead to the library and then write there until around six p.m., buy dinner in a convenience store, eat it and then go back to writing until his eyes couldn't stay open, his hands wouldn't move anymore and his mind wouldn't form proper sentences. On Saturdays, he would meet up with his editor, take up extra shifts, take a break and just stay home sleeping, but Sundays were sacred. No matter what was going to happen, be it his brother's marriage or the end of the world, he would write during the entire day. From dawn to evening, only letting go of his pen to eat and drink after some hours. Although such a life sounded high maintenance, Kouki liked it. That Saturday, after taking a shift in his usual hour, he decided to spend the rest of the afternoon reading the book Kuroko recommended to him.

It really did was of easy reading, and the pages were passing by fast, one after another, in a very good pace. The storytelling felt fresh, and thanks to its simple writing, it was easy to get sucked in by the lifes of the book's many protagonists. The only thing that made him interrupt his reading was a folded paper between two pages.

"Did someone put that in here?" Kouki wondered out loud. "I should tell about it to Kuroko-san when I give it back..."

Out of sheer curiosity, the young man opened the letter.

 

'To a dear person,

I've always thought it was romantic to exchange letters through a book. Don't you think so? To pour your feelings into a piece of paper that will be read by someone you're interested in, only the idea makes my heart skips a beat. I've been looking at you for a while now. Your gentle gaze makes me smile earnestly, the honest way you express your feelings, your voice is so calm, it calms me too.

Your expression when looking at the sunset is way more beautiful than anything that is beyond the window.'

 

His face was burning bright after reading it all. Who had put that there? The handwriting was neat and delicate, maybe one of the high school girls, in hopes that she'll be noticed by her crush? But the language was refined to some extent, it would be a bit unusual for a teenager to use it... But maybe it was one of those literary types...

To be honest, the first person that came to his mind was the librarian, which made his cheeks acquire a deeper tone of red. Kuroko was the only person that was everyday at the library at the same hour as him, so it would surely make sense, but... something inside him was denying it, saying that he wouldn't do that. Maybe the letter wasn't even addressed to him! Maybe it was only coincidence, yes. Surely, it had been only an accident, someone forgot that letter inside the book and Kuroko didn't saw it, right?

Yes, right?

So why was he writing a reply right now?

 

'To the person who has someone dear to them (or just to anyone),

I do think that the exchange of love letters through books is exciting in a romantic sense. I'm probably not the person who you wrote to, so I'm sorry to barge in. But your brief declaration has enchanted me. Honestly, I think it was very pleasing to read. But please don't hold me in bad regards!! I just think it was... adorable. I guess that's the word. Adorable.

Best of luck to you in your romance.

May that person look at you instead of at the sunset.'

 

The following Monday, Kouki arrived at the library at the usual hour, more mindful of his surroundings than ever.

"Did you liked the book?" Kuroko asked him, his voice neutral as always.

"Yes, it was pretty entertaining." His answer was slightly absentminded, as he still was having an inner discussion about if he should tell Kuroko about the letter. Did they had any particular rules in the library about not leaving your personal belongings behind? But would a love letter inside a book be considered as a personal belonging? He also didn't wanted to expose the lovesick person, besides, it would also expose himself, as he had written a reply. Maybe that person only wanted to vent out their feelings, as if they're in a deep unrequited love, or there's something that won't let them confess to their beloved one. He should just let it go and forget about it. His own reply was also just to vent. It was too much of a interesting case to pretend he didn't read anything, but he also didn't wanted to push it further, so that was the ending to it. "Thanks for the recommendation. Do you have any other works by the same author?"

But he honestly thought it was quite refreshing to see the letter. In times like today, where people start and end relationships through e-mail and similar stuff, a love letter in a book was one of the most romantic ideas of confession that Kouki could think of. The words they used to express their feelings, the delicate manner about how they didn't went with a straight forward declaration... It was pure, and cute. Something he would have liked to have written on his book. He still was stuck on that confession scene, though, and decided to skip it for the time being, writing a few chapters of the side story that he planned to include at the end of the paperback, if his editor allowed him to. While his mind was lost in epic battles and chivalrous princesses, Kuroko and his unnoticeable presence stood by his side, always with a book in hands.

"Furihata-san." He called in a gentle whisper, just as Kouki finished writing a paragraph.

"Ah...! Kuroko-san!" The writer got slightly startled by the sudden appearance of the librarian. "Sorry, I didn't noticed you were here. Is something the matter?"

"You seemed interested in other works by the author, so I brought this one." This one was heavier than the previous book, not only because of the hardcover edition, but also because of the number of pages. "It's the story of a girl in a distant country that has just gotten out of war. She's searching for her older brother, who was in the military, and end up becoming acquaintances with a soldier. The output is predictable, but it's a good read nevertheless."

"Thank you." Kouki flipped through the first pages. Librarians are really amazing, right? If you talk with one of them for a while, they'll be able to pinpoint what kind of stories you like.

Or maybe that was just Kuroko. He beamed off that aura of knowledge, somehow.

 

This time, Kouki didn't waited until Saturday to start reading. As soon as he got past the first chapter, he got completely hooked on the story, taking the book with him everywhere, picking it up at every opportunity. It was extremely interesting, and although he could tell what was coming next, he wanted to see it with his own eyes. The chemistry between the two protagonists was excellent, and the girl's determination to find her brother captured his heart. Ahh, what a good book. He was very thankful towards Kuroko thanks to the author recommendation.

It seemed that he wasn't the only fan of the author.

Once again, a paper was folded in the white page between chapters twenty-two and twenty-three, right after the main character's love confession.

 

'To a dear person,

Isn't the heart like a battlefield? Heaps of feelings charging against each other. Hesitation against bravery, sadness against joy, they're all so contradictory. At least my heart is like this. I want to call out to you, but I'm afraid that you won't listen to me. I want to see you more, but I don't know if this would be proper. These feelings are a bit painful, but also precious, the very definition of bittersweet.

Although I think it's a bit ridiculous of me, an already grown-up person, to keep wailing in letters like these.

But as long bravery doesn't wins against hesitation, this is my only escape.

To be honest, I only made all of these metaphors because of this book's theme. I really like this author, so I hope you're enjoying it.

P.S.: To the person who is reading this right now,

Please don't think so lowly of yourself.'

 

Kouki was speechless. Was it possible that the writer knew that he was reading these letters?

Once again, Kuroko's face popped up into his mind. He was the only person who could have been writing these. The literary style, the fact that those letters until now have came in books recommended by him, all fit into place. Was the librarian using him as a scapegoat, as someone who he could confess to? They weren't friends, but also weren't strangers, maybe Kuroko thought it was the perfect distance to vent out like this. 'Please don't think so lowly of yourself', though... It would be the same as saying "don't discard my feelings". Kouki wasn't discarding them on purpose, however, he just couldn't see himself as the target of all that love.

He couldn't imagine Kuroko being in love with him, and couldn't hear that small voice inside his head saying to toss aside that inferiority complex.

His thumping heart, though, was echoing loud on his ears.

 

'To the person in love,

I'm glad to be lending an ear to you. But shouldn't these beautiful declarations be sung to someone else other than me?

I'll equip you with my courage. It's not much, but it's all I have. I'm cheering you on, you can do it.

Tell them about your feelings!

 

You can do it.'

 

"It was very addicting." Kouki commented quietly while handing over the book to Kuroko on that Wednesday. "Thanks for recommending it."

He could notice the hint of curiosity in Kuroko's eyes passing by quickly, then being replaced by a shadow that Kouki couldn't quite put his finger on. Mixed feelings, probably.

After coming to the conclusion that the librarian was the writer, he had been seeing him with other eyes. His gentle mannerisms and calming but fading presence were still the same, but his eyes seemed more longing than before. His mouth once in a while would twist in a weird way while he was deep in thoughts, and his mind seemed to be wandering more than the usual. It was cute, honestly. Kouki had thought about him that way once or twice, but only briefly... Now he caught himself looking towards his direction, and it was a bit harder to talk to each other like usual.

It was as if coming to that conclusion had changed something inside his heart.

Kouki was stubborn enough to not admit the true nature of those feelings.

 

Another week, another book.

This time, it hadn't been a recommendation. The rookie novelist picked up a random book from the same author, vaguely reading its contents on its back. As soon as he reached home, he despairingly started to search for that white paper folded between two pages. That time, Kuroko hadn't been alone with the book, so if it was him, there would be no letter there.

There wasn't none.

Kouki exhaled, his fingers still trembling, a sensation of adrenaline running through his body, pumping in rhythm with his heart.

Kuroko really was the lovesick person, as he thought. Kuroko was in love with someone.

The small hope of that person being Kouki was slowly making itself be heard inside his mind.

Kouki was still too stubborn, or maybe too coward.

But being coward shouldn't be a choice now. If all of his suspicions were true, now was the time to move forward, to dive headfirst and let bravery win hesitation and hope win stubbornness, because right now the battlefield described in the letter was taking place inside his mind too.

 

"Have you already finished that scene?" The librarian casually asked while flipping the pages of the library's records. "The one where the princess confesses to the thief."

"You know he isn't a thief anymore." Organizing his usual working desk, the writer picked up a variety of colorful pens from a small pocket in his backpack. "And she isn't going to confess to the ex-thief."

"She isn't? But she seemed to demonstrate some interest towards him in the earlier chapters."

"No, she was only trying to get information for the kingdom. The one she's really after is his sister, the poor girl who works at the bakery."

"That's a interesting spin." Kuroko's smile had genuine amusement. "I'm looking forward to read it. Do you want some coffee?"

"Yes, please. I'm going to look at a section over there, so please just leave it at my desk."

While the librarian entered his room, Kouki quickly jotted down a note and left it at his counter.

 

'You're the writer of all these love letters, right? Why you're sending them to me?'

 

Minutes later, a cup filled with the hottest coffee the writer had ever drank was on his desk together with a piece of paper.

 

'Sometimes, words are only written for the sake of existing. They're only written to not be swept by the wind.

Or because a message has to be transmitted no matter what.'

 

Kouki didn't knew where all that courage to step forward and confront Kuroko (although not verbally) was coming from. His hand was shaking as the grabbed the pen to reply, his face as red as the bright ink that flowed through the paper. The coffee was only drying up his throat to a deeper extent, and if he didn't got over this soon, he'd probably die from hyperventilation. Even though Kuroko said that he shouldn't think lowly of himself, he also still couldn't picture Kuroko liking someone like him. Kuroko, who was so good, so gentle, so caring... what could have him seen in someone like Kouki?

 

'Then, if I may ask, why have you never used the word 'love' in your letters?'

 

Kuroko had a smile when tapping his shoulder and handing over a folded paper.

 

'What do you think about Soseki's translation of 'I love you'?'

 

That day, Kouki didn't left the library at sunset.

He stayed longer, until the high school kids arrived, until they left, until night was already deep outside and no one else was in the library. That is, besides him and Kuroko.

 

The story behind Natsume Soseki's translation of the phrase "I love you" is a short but curious one. During his time teaching English language at Japan, a student translated his sentence in quite a literal way, which in Soseki's opinion, completely lacked feeling. It was too brute, too rough, it hadn't a bit of Japanese spirit. It lacked the delicacy and the discretion of the country's culture, which to him was fundamental while expressing one's feelings. Moved by these ideas, he suggested a much more free translation, completely different from the original sentence, but it was much more open for diverse interpretations and it was beautiful on its way too.

 

"Furihata-san, you're still here."

The lights were already off inside the building. The only thing preventing darkness from making the library part of its reign was moonlight, coming from the large window near the entrance, although a bit chopped by the shadows of the trees that resided in the garden outside. Kouki was standing by this window, apparently observing the night sky.

"It's a beautiful night, isn't it?"

Kuroko walked towards him, standing by his side.

"Yes. The stars are shining a lot, aren't they?"

Silence followed, however, Kouki thought that Kuroko could probably hear the loud thumping of his heart. His flushed face was messing up what would be an otherwise perfect and highly romantic confession, but it was okay like this too. Coughing as if cleaning his throat, his voice was loud and clear in the empty room.

"The moon is beautiful tonight, isn't it?"

But he wasn't looking at the moon anymore. Nor was Kuroko.

 

**Author's Note:**

> More on Soseki's translation of "I love you": ([x](http://japan-travelers-eyes.blogspot.com.br/2013/08/natsume-soseki.html))


End file.
